Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
by RocketFuel24
Summary: Robert Romano is the Chief of Staff, and sometimes, a part of the job, involves teaching students. Robert teaches Lucy Knight when John Carter won't. What will happen when a man named Paul Sobriki comes to the ER with a headache on a Valentine's Day? A different take of All In The Family
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I** **don't own ER but wish I did :) So, my lovelies, this is another CORDANO fanfic because they are my OTP :) Anyways, this should make sense. Reviews always welcome and appreciated :)**

Robert Romano walked into the ER, hand in hand with Elizabeth Corday. Robert walked with a bounce in his step, tipping his chin in the air as if he were the King Of County General. Elizabeth laughed loudly, smiling at his childish ways.

It was a busy day at County General. Chairs was littered with waiting patients. The Admit Desk was full of idle people, mostly staff talking about all sorts of things. Carter and Lucy were in the middle of a heated argument. The Blonde student shoved the chart in Carter's face, and Robert tried to hide his pride at her moment of defiance.

"Paul Sobriki." she said with authority in her voice, looking around the crowded hospital.

"What about him?" Carter hadn't looked up from the stack of charts he was working on.

"He fits all the criteria for paranoid schizophrenia."

Dr. Susan Lewis walked by, noticing the argument. She listened while she crossed a name off the Board—as an Attending she was in Charge of Residents and Students, but she knew that problems had to try to be solved between the pair first before she got involved.

Lucy looked around for an ally.

"Dr. Lewis? I have a question about a patient."

"Ask Professor Carter first." she laughed, and sipped her coffee.

"Dr. Carter? What should i do about Paul?"

"Ask someone else who cares." Carter snarked at her, lost in his own misery. His eyes were tired, and he was annoyed with her incessant questions. "You're a fourth year, if you can't dipso a patient by now, then maybe you shouldn't practice medicine."

"Now, Now, Dr. Carter, we want our student's to come back the next day, not kill their residents in their sleep." Robert retorted as he and Lizzie reached the desk.

Carter glared at him, and Lucy laughed, her eyes bright. She looked at the happy couple, and for a moment, her chest burned. She wanted what they had, but she knew that she could never tell him—John Carter could never find out that she was madly in love with him.

"Lizzie, was I ever that bad of a teacher?" he laughed, wrapping an arm around her when she moved closer to him.

"On the contrary. You were very through, almost annoyingly so." she replied cheekily, reaching over him to the stack of charts, and reviewing them.

"Oh, you are so going to get it later." He replied, laughing as he took the chart from Lucy.

"I'm shaking in my boots, Robert." Elizabeth's pager went off, and she looked at it, a frown coating her lips. She nuzzled herself closer to Robert for a few more seconds, before pulling away.

"I have to save Edson from an Ischemic Bowel." she sighed, suddenly feeling faint and queasy. _Probably just breakfast_.

"Don't leave me in this cesspool, Lizzie," he begged playfully, pouting slightly at her new assignment.

"You're a big boy. You'll survive without me for a few hours." Elizabeth kissed his nose, and he hugged her tightly before letting her escape.

Elizabeth shoved her hands in her pockets, and turned towards the elevator. She took a few steps, when Robert's voice stopped her.

"I love you, Elizabeth." He smiled and looked at her face, her blue eyes shining brightly. His brown eyes were bright, and he didn't give a damn about the people watching them. _Let them._

The curly-haired surgeon beamed, completely in love with her life and with the man staring back at her. "I love you too, Robert."

The noise from the crowd had died, but neither of them had noticed. Their friends stood in shock, at the admission—especially from the Chief of Staff, but Lucy was happy for them. She had become friends with the pair when she was doing her Surgical rotation. Lucy knew the truth, but kept it a secret from the rest of the gossip at County. She'd promised them she would after accidentally finding them kissing in Robert's office many moons ago.

"Will you make your famous Lasagna for dinner?" Lizzie asked him as she took one more step towards the elevator.

He thought about it for a few seconds, rubbing his chin as his eyebrows went up. "Hmmmm, I think I can for a certain curly-haired surgeon. Would you happen to know any?"

She waved off his joke, snorting as she walked away.

Admit was noisy again when Robert turned back around. Everyone pretended to be working or busy when they were in fact listening to the latest romance at County General. Robert knew but didn't let on.

"So, Miss Knight, where is this Mr. Sobriki?"

Lucy looked at him incredulously. "Dr. Romano, you don't have to take it. I'll figure it out."

"Nonsense. This a teaching Hospital, and while you're here, you'll learn something, even if I have to do it myself." He shot Carter an evil look. Carter threw down his charts, and walked into the Lounge. Robert watched the young doctor go, and he puffed out his chest in triumph.

Lucy bit her lip—to keep from laughing and following Carter into the Lounge and making out with him. She zoned out into her daydreams until she noticed Robert's hand waving in front of her face repeatedly.

"You still with me?"

"Yes. Sorry." She shook off her dreams, and went back into Doctor mode.

"Wanted to make sure you didn't stroke out on me. How I'd ever justify that to the Committee and Lizzie I'll never know. I mean, I know most women swoon in my presence but try harder, Miss Knight, to hide it." Rocket smiled as he joked with her, happy to consider a friend and soon a colleague.

Lucy rolled her eyes, punching him on the arm. "Yeah, you _totally_ have that effect on people." She chuckled as she walked off down the hall towards Curtain Area 3 where Paul waited. Robert followed her, briefly glancing at the man's chart, proud of the Blonde's refusal to put up with anybody's crap, especially his, and he knew she'd be a hell of a doctor in a few months.

—

"So, Mr. Sobriki? What seems to be the problem?" Robert took off his stethoscope, standing on one side of the bed as Lucy stood on the other listening to Paul's chest.

"I have a splitting headache," he groaned as he squeezed at the pain in his head. Robert looked on to make sure she was alright. Lucy finished her work up, and stood up.

"Uh huh. Miss Knight, how do you think we should treat?"

"Let's do a spinal tap to rule out Meningitis, give him some aspirin for the headache, and get a Psych consult." Robert nodded in agreement with her. That was short and sweet. To the point. Why Carter hadn't wanted to take this case, he'd never know.

"I'm not crazy!" Paul shouted, growing agitated.

"We know, Paul. It's routine for everyone who comes in. Now, can you hold still so i can do the spinal tap?"

He nodded. Lucy scooted the stool closer, and Robert gathered the supplies for her, and moved in to watch her.

Paul flailed on the bed when she stuck the needle in his back, and Lucy flinched back a few feet. Robert held him down, focusing on Lucy.

"Make sure it's a good stick. You don't want blood."

"Paul it's okay. Just relax. I'm almost done." She advanced the needle, collecting the fluid in the container with some difficulty, and a bit of it dribbled onto the floor. She twisted her face in concentration.

"No. Don't stick me. Stop sticking me." He pleaded, scrunching his face up in agony. His flailing got worse, and Lucy struggled to collect the remaining fluid in the container because he was moving so hard. Robert did his best to keep him still.

"All done. We'll be back later. Try to sleep, okay?" Lucy said in a caring voice as she stood up, and took off her gloves.

Robert held the door open for her, and they exited the room. The walked in silence until they got back to the desk.

"Be sure to call Psych." he reminded her.

"I will." she nodded.

"Hey, you hungry? Thirsty? Want a coke or something?"

"Sure. Coke will be fine, thanks. "

Robert nodded, and turned towards the hall. He started to walk to the cafeteria, when he stopped, and said over his shoulder, "Miss Knight. When you call make sure you ask for a sitter, also don't go in there until they come down, and keep paging them until they do." His voice was suddenly serious and Lucy knew that he was the more experienced doctor, and that she should trust his judgement. She trusted his clinical experience and his judgement—he'd been one of the only ones, apart from Elizabeth, to actually tell her the truth since she got here, and she respected and cared for them both very much.

He returned a few minutes later, his arms full of coke and two crullers. They chatted for a bit before she called Psych, and he said his farewells.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Don't kill anybody while I'm gone."

"I'll try." she told him as he walked away.

Lucy headed into the Lounge, and threw the chart in Carter's lap. He was fast asleep on the couch, and she felt a little guilty for being rude to him earlier. He did look terrible, she had to admit, and she thought about the time she'd fallen asleep in her during her shift and he'd covered her with a blanket. She retrieved one from a locker and placed it over him, placing a kiss on her hand and them bringing her hand to his head.

Carter smiled at her touch, and she let her hand linger for a while before, standing up, and walking out of the Lounge to check on her other patients.

—

Robert looked at the full board, his hands on his hips. He wore his blue Surgical gown, and he grimaced at the thought of having to do a consult. Susan Lewis seemed to be the only one who actually worked in the damned department while everyone was setting up for the party tonight. Luka talked to Amira about the cake they were going to have, and he laughed at the blue icing.

"Has Psych been down to see Sobriki?" he asked Lewis as he sipped his second Coke.

Lewis scurried for the chart, and nodded, handing it to him. She smiled at him, and Robert didn't feel like screaming at her. She seemed like a decent worker, anyways. They had one thing in common—they both hated Kerry Weaver with a passion, and believed that Susan should really be the Chief of Emergency Medicine. Hell, even Mark Greene would be better than Kerry.

"Thanks. Oh, and Lewis, I don't bite you know." Robert took the chart, finished his Coke, and walked off to find Lucy as he crushed the can and threw it away.

Lucy stood down the hall, organizing her charts when he caught up.

"Psych saw Mr. Sobriki. They said he was fine, so i guess we can discharge him." Something in Lucy's voice made Robert examine her face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I guess i just thought he was sick, you know." She sighed, finishing up her charts, her blue eyes a bit tired but mostly worried.

He nodded in understanding. It sucked to make a diagnoses and be wrong, but Robert didn't have the heart to make fun of her for it like he normally did with anyone else.

"Shall we go discharge him together?" he asked, his voice light.

"Okay." She smiled for a brief second and they walked to Curtain Area Three.

—

"Mr. Sobri—" Lucy stopped mid-sentence as she noticed that the room was empty. "Where did he go?"

Robert's stomach was in knots as he stepped in the room first. "I'm not sure. Usually Psych tells us if they discharge someone."

Lucy stepped in the room once he'd cleared the door, and they looked around. Robert wracked his brain while Lucy went to the gurney, and squatted down. Her face fell and she picked up the bundle on the floor. Paul's street clothes were still here. "Maybe he's in the bathroom?"

"We should check the cafeteria, the roof. Did he say anything to you?" Robert wondered as he noticed Lucy holding the bundle of dirty clothes. He took a deep breath as fear consumed his frame, but he tried to be brave for the Med Student.

Lucy shook her head. The room went dark. The door swung closed. Lucy saw the silver glint, but her voice wouldn't escape from her lips. Backing up, she hit the wall as Paul moved closer holding the knife. Robert tried to compose himself—tried to stop the knocking of his knees. He remained frozen in place as he could barely see the two shadows across from him.

"I told you not to take my organs! Give them back!" Paul screamed in the darkness as he edged closer and closer to Lucy.

"Paul, we didn't take your organs. Just put the knife down." She pleaded and her voice quivered. Robert jumped out of his thoughts, and moved across the room, careful not to alert Sobriki.

"Sobriki, don't be stupid. Put the knife down. Miss Knight didn't take your organs." he tried to reason as Paul grew more and more enraged.

"You're lying! You took them, and i want them back! Now!" Paul's hand shook as he pointed the knife towards her. Robert closed the distance between the two duelers, and managed to shove Lucy towards the door, placing himself in between Paul and the knife.

"Mr. Sobriki. I can show you where you're organs are, okay? Just calm down and give me the knife." Robert took on a gentle tone as he stalled. His eyes met Lucy's and they ordered her to go, but she couldn't leave him in here with a madman.

Lucy watched from the side of the room where she stood as Paul lowered his hand to give Robert the knife, and Robert sighed. When he reached out his hand to take the knife, Paul lunged. "You took my organs, and now I'll take yours."

Lucy screamed. Paul smiled evilly as he turned to face the blonde, locking eyes with her as blood dripped from the knife.

"Miss Knight, run!" Robert wrestled Paul to the floor, and punched him. He gasped as he struggled with Sobriki, trying to protect himself from Paul's stabs. Paul returned a few blows, bringing the knife down a few more times, slicing at any part that Robert couldn't cover.

Lucy wanted to help him, but couldn't move.

"GO!" he spluttered, and Lucy saw him loosen his grasp on Sobriki, and stopped moving underneath Paul.

Lucy held her breath as Paul snaked past her, dropping the knife at her feet as he ran down the hall.

Lucy willed her feet to move, and she was by Robert's side in a flash. She gulped as she examined his injuries.

"Dr. Romano, stay with me!" she shook him a bit, and he barely groaned. Lucy knew he was in trouble. "I'll be right back."

"Lucy—" he choked out her name, as he moved a hand to his stomach, trying to asses his wounds. The sweet smell of his blood was making him sick. His head hurt as he fought to stay conscious.

"Don't do that." She cried, her voice thick with tears. He had never called her Lucy before. He couldn't die—God, don't let him die.

"You're going to be a good doctor." He whispered, touching her cheek before the blackness consumed him.

Lucy wasn't sure how she was able to stand, but she ran out the door to Admit.

—

"OH MY GOD, LUCY! what happened? Are you okay?" Susan Lewis saw her and immediately looked her over for any signs of distress.

"I'm—Fine—Dr. Romano—Hurt—Help—Him—" Lucy wheezed out as she pointed down the hall towards the room, crying and trying to get the words out.

"Mark!" Susan yelled at the top of her lungs, and everyone looked at her. Mark, who stood across the room, looked at her, noticing a different tone in her voice than was usually there. Susan motioned to Lucy, and his face fell as he ran towards them, everyone else following, the other patients long forgotten.

The events of the last twenty minutes became too much, and Lucy slumped to the floor, greeting the darkness as it claimed her.

—

Lucy heard the voices around her. They were frantic, messy, and concerned. She heard the swinging sound of the doors to the Trauma room. It was loud, darkness still covered her eyes. Maybe they'd gotten to him in time. The Monitor blared from the the room next to hers, but it wwas consistently beepeing.

"Damn it! He's lost a whole liter!" Susan's said as she checked the Thorasel.

"Get Surgery down here now!" Mark told Lily, and she ran to the phone. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know. Let's get more o- Neg."

Malik ran to get more blood while Kovac put in a chest tube.

"What the hell did he use? A butcher knife?" Kovac wondered as a large pool of blood poured at his feet.

The machine slowed.

"He's bradying down. Crash chart, push another amp of epi."

Flat line. The machine wailed in the constant tone that every doctor dreads. Lucy listened, clutching her stomach as she heard Susan screaming for the paddles.

"Charge to 300! Clear!"

Nothing. Lucy fluttered in and out of her dreams.

"Again. Clear!"

"Sinus."

"Okay, i got your page. What did—What happened?"

"Some lunatic tried to stab Lucy, but Romano protected her." Susan told Peter as she checked Robert's pressure, and praying that he wouldn't code again.

"He's coded three times." Mark told him as they prepared for transport.

"Hang five more of packed cells, and keep the blood coming. Somebody, page Anspaugh."

Darkness was a welcomed relief for the Blonde in Trauma Two. She was afraid to open her eyes—afraid that if she did, her nightmares would follow her to reality.

The gurney made a screeching sound as it hit the doors, and Lucy thought of Carter as she slipped further and further under.

—

Elizabeth Corday shook as she stood outside Pre-Op. "Let me in! I'm going in!"

"Elizabeth, they need you in the ER," Susan held her, trying to prevent her from escaping.

"Find someone else," the surgeon spat through her tears as she struggled to get free.

"Come on, they've got enough surgeons. You'd only be in the way."

"Damn it! That's my husband in there! I'm going in!" Elizabeth broke free from Susan's grasp. She grabbed the wall as the sobs consumed her, and she slid down to the floor.

Susan looked shocked at her friend, but wrapped her arms around her and soothed her. "It'll be okay. he'll be fine."

"What if he isn't?"

"He's a stubborn bastard. We'll have to live with him for a few more years" Susan laughed meekly as the surgeon gathered herself. They sat there together while Benton and Anspaugh operated in the room over.

"So, Romano huh?"

"Don't look so surprised."

"He adores you. I'm surprised that you finally realized it."

"Lucy made me." Elizabeth laughed and hiccuped. "How is she?"

"Not a mark on her. He protected her." Susan told her, realizing that Robert Romano was a better man than she'd ever given him credit for.

"Robert always looks out for all of us, whether we realize it or not." Elizabeth nodded as lots of memories flowed through her mind. She reached into her pocket, and pulled out their rings, and slipped hers on her finger. He was with her, he was near, and she needed him in this moment. "You know, we were going to tell everyone tonight at the party—" her voice broke again and she sobbed again.

"Elizabeth, he'll be fine. I promise. Look, they're almost done." Lewis pointed through the window. Benton shared a look with Elizabeth, and the two women stood. "Why don't you go wait in Post-Op?"

She nodded. "Susan, thanks."

"What are friends for?"

Elizabeth watched in silence as Susan walked down the hall back to the ER. She headed down the hall to wait for the man she loved more than anything in the universe.

—

"Robert, I love you so much. Please don't leave me." Elizabeth held his hand as she watched the ventilator breathe for him several hours later. She rubbed a hand over his cheek, his skin was cold, and she shivered. It was normally so warm with passion, with life, with love.

She slipped the ring on his finger, and she kissed his hand, talking about the life they'd planned to make. "Robert, you promised me we'd grow old together. I'm not ready to give you up, sweetheart. Take your time recovering because i'll be here the whole way. We both will." She smiled a bit through her tears as she placed his hand on her flat abdomen.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and for a moment she could've sworn that she'd felt his hand move over the new life they'd just created. He would be fine—she just had to have hope. Hope was the thing that had brought them together after all, and it would be the very thing that would get them through.

 _" **Hope" is the thing with feathers—**_

 ** _That perches in the soul—_**

 ** _And sings the tune without the words—_**

 ** _And never stops at all._**

 ** _—Emily Dickinson_**


	2. Chapter 2: A Step Towards Healing

**AN: Fear not, my lovelies, Robert's still going to have both arms, and i;'ll explain in later chapter, but there will be no helicopters or chopping off of arms. I'm not that evil lol :)**

 _"Come on, take a step." The voice taunted him, and he cursed under his breath as he shuffled his left foot in front of his right. Robert Romano clutched the bars of the rehab platform he was attempting to cross._

 _"I never knew you had it in you to be such a sadistic bitch, Kendall." He shook his head and slammed his eyes shut, managing to take a step before forcing the bile from his throat as the pain ripped through his back and across his stomach._

 _"You should know by now that I love making people squirm, especially you, Rocket," she winked and caught him before he fell back into the wheel chair she kept close by in case he needed it. Her green eyes studied the half-hunched man she'd known from their days of Residency together, and she swatted away the disbelief._

 _Rocket Romano was the strongest person she'd ever known—he'd proved it over and over again through their hellacious months together as students at County and then he'd teased her mercilessly for her choice to physical therapy, but they'd come to understand each other, a love forming between them. Not romantic love, not even that of siblings, but the love of comrades in the middle of a time in medicine when it didn't care what you're name was or what specialty you chose. They'd developed the love of acquaintances but they'd kept in touch over the years, and she remembered how he'd written her wonderful letters of recommendation so she could get a cushy job at Rush with her own office and exorbitant salary, especially for a first year Attending, but she was grateful for his support even after so many years had passed._

 _So imagine her horror, when she'd gotten a phone call two months ago, form a quiet voice on the other side of the line as it rasped out its demand for her help._

 _Julie Kendall now held privileges at County_ _—until Robert recovers of course, blah, blah—but the truth was, Robert trusted no one in her field as much as her, and she'd never lie to him about his recovery even when he wanted her to._

 _"Surely, there are methods of torture more advantageous to both of us that don't require me almost ripping my stitches." He played, his back twinging as he crossed the platform, turning back to shoot her a look._

 _"Yep, but you know me: always have to be difficult, like someone else I know." She laughed and he rotated his body so he was staring at the other side of the ramp, walking back across the platform in the direction he'd just come, more confident now, his legs not as wobbly as before._

Robert held the spoon in his hand, running his fingers over the shiny surface as he thought about his physical therapy session a few days ago. His left arm was out of its sling—a present he'd gotten from the man who lurked in the darkness—because let's face it, the charismatic surgeon was a terrible patient.

A pot of tea simmered on his range as he absentmindedly flipped through a copy of _Advanced Pharmacology_ , wincing as the kettle whistled in the large kitchen.

Sunlight poured onto his shirt, and he crutched his way to a cabinet and retrieved two mugs, trying to close it with only one good arm. One of the cups fell onto the tile and he cursed loudly, stumbling a little bit as he tried to avoid the pieces of glass, but he crunched a few under his sneakers.

"Damn it!" he tried to clean up the mess but fell backwards against the sink, his crutches flying across the room, his chest stinging, the scar on his abdomen taunting him as tears sprung up in his eyes.

 _"You took my organs and now I'll take yours."_ Paul Sobirki stabbed him over and over, the pain too intense to stay conscious, and he wanted to float away into the void of nothingness, where he truly felt he belonged.

Resting a hand against the mess of his life, he grunted as a piece of glass cut his hand, but he didn't notice, the wonderful abyss closing in, calling him home as he replayed that Valentine's night over and over again.

Two fifty six in the damned morning. He should've been in bed with his beautiful wife, should've given him to anyone else, let Lucy go by herself, but no, Rocket Romano had to always be chivalrous and brave. _You dumbass._ He'd never be able to live with himself if she got hurt on his watch, his fragile heart wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of knowing that as her Chief of Staff he'd failed her, and he'd never be able to look any of them in the eyes ever again, even _his_ Elizabeth who understood him in every way possible.

As a few drops of blood fell onto the polished blue tile, he saw his silver wedding band, simple but the most perfect reminder of why he'd broken Paul Sobriki's rules and lived.

"Oh, my Lizzie, I just don't know if I can do it anymore," he sighed, his voice quivering as he tried to remember the look in her eyes when she'd shoved the ring on his finger at the altar when he couldn't voice his displeasure at the color. Elizabeth had picked it to perturb him, but had done it out of love and pranking mischievousness so he couldn't be mad, and he'd wear a hot pink ring pop if he got her for the rest of his life.

"Robert! Oh, sweetheart, what happened? I heard the crash." She squatted beside him, her face full of concern. Her hair had some paint in it, and there was also some on her oversized shirt as she pulled him into her arms and soothed his mutterings of sorrow.

"I was trying to make some tea because I know you've been nauseous, and I couldn't even do that. Useless!" he yelled at himself in anger, feeling like an invalid and he was sick of it.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, you need to slow down. Don't overdo it right now. For Christ-sakes, Robert, you only came out of your coma a month ago. You need to be patient." She reminded him as she pulled away, and stood up, cleaning up the mess as she observed his slumped shoulders and dejected spirit.

"We've been married five months, Elizabeth, two of those I spent unconscious. I missed our anniversary. I didn't make you lasagna like I promised. I wasn't there to comfort you in your grief, I didn't stop to think about the consequences of my actions. How stupid could I be? For God's sake, Lizzie, I missed the first two months of your pregnancy." He railed, slamming his back into the cabinet, welcoming the pain because it would rid him of the guilt of missing so much already.

"You're worried about lasagna at a time like this?" she couldn't believe the strong man she'd looked up to and had loved for so long, was shaking before her.

"It's the principle of the matter."

"What would've happened to Lucy if you hadn't gone in there with her, huh?"

They both shivered and Robert tried to form words, but his brain was covered in a thick fog.

"She would've probably been savagely murdered in the prime of her life because we all failed her, not just you. I know you, and you wouldn't have done it if you didn't think it would've benefited her. You protected her, and that doesn't count for nothing. What you did for her matters. It matters to me at least, even if you want to wallow in your own self-pity. So cut yourself some slack and be grateful you're still here." She crossed her arms at his deprecation, but her heart was breaking for the man she couldn't imagine living without. His eyes cut up towards her, anger rising and the familiar flame she'd seen a thousand times bubbling up in them at her tone, but then it just as quick as it'd come, it was gone again. Elizabeth sighed, wondering if it was any use—wondering if she was helping anything or just making it worse—wondering if she'd ever get her husband back ,and what condition he'd be in when and if he ever did return.

A few seconds passed and she spoke again, her voice gentler this time, less bite and more fluff. "Besides, you didn't miss much, just me with my head halfway down the toilet." She giggled, realizing that missing this milestone had upset him more than breaking the mug.

"I was supposed to be there for my wife, holding her hair and rubbing her back and apologizing for doing this to her in the first place. I should win husband of the year for my dreadful go at it." He snorted bitterly as he ripped a piece of fabric from his shirt, attempting to wrap it around his bleeding hand.

Elizabeth threw away the broken bits of the mug, and knelt down again, taking the cloth from his hand and completing the task, kissing his palm as she brought a hand to his cheek.

"Robert, look at me," she tilted his chin up to meet her eyes, and he half-heartedly smiled at the softness of her voice, relishing in her peaceful touch as he leant into her warmth. His eyes landed on her barley noticeable belly, and his heart fluttered with joyful anticipation at the prospect of meeting his son or daughter soon, and yet, his heart also fluttered with crippling fear. Not of losing the loves of his life, but of not being what they needed. Elizabeth's voice snapped him out his thoughts. "I know why you did it, and I'm grateful that you did. I don't blame you for what happened."

"What if I had died, Elizabeth, would you blame me then? It's not very fair of me to leave the love of my life as a single mother and a widow."

"No matter what happened, I could never blame you. Who said life's fair, anyways? You've always told me that's the one certainty in life, the unpredictability of it. The way it will sometimes kick your ass when you haven't even recovered from the last blow, but you somehow go on." She stalled, trying to avoid answering his question, but Robert was smart enough not to fall for her tactics.

"While I do remember telling you that one day in surgery after losing a patient we'd spent 11 hours putting back together, you didn't answer my question." His eyes flashed for a second, and the fear was fading. He felt normal for a brief second, and he grinned then bit his lip, suddenly wishing he was Rocket Romano, again.

Elizabeth didn't want to think about if he'd succumbed to his injuries, but she found some courage and answered him. "Well, then I would've somehow found the strength to go on because you wouldn't have wanted us to live like that. You've only wanted the best for us, and I'm sure you'd want the same thing, even in death. Our child would've known the incredible man that his father was, the man whom his mother loved more than anything in this world, and what a heroic thing he did for a beloved friend. Our son or daughter would've understood that, Robert."

A tear slid down his cheek, and she wiped it away, silently promising him never to speak of this moment to anyone. She moved her hand to his bandaged one, and he obliged, grunting as she helped him stand on his own two feet again.

"Thank you for thinking of me with the tea. That was very sweet of you," she smiled at him before kissing him passionately on the lips. He kissed her back, wrapping her up in his good arm, chasing her tongue with his, breathing in her sweet-smelling life.

"I would do anything for you," he whispered as he nodded, running his hand through her hair before placing it on her stomach.

"How about living for both of us?" she pleaded, not trying to push him, but trying to make him understand just how much she needed him.

"Always. Every day to the best of my ability." He kissed her this time, looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes. Robert Romano was a very lucky man to have survived, and he was lucky Elizabeth Corday— now Romano he corrected himself—was his wife. Anybody else and they'd have bolted from the first day, but she wasn't everyone.

He pulled his lips across the side of her face to her ear, where he whispered in long and ragged breaths, nibbling her earlobe before biting and sucking his way to her neck and down to the sweet spot between her shoulder and collarbone.

Elizabeth moaned and clutched his shoulders, overcome with pleasure, as she undid his suspenders from his shoulders and let them rest at his hips, being careful not to hit his healing left arm and send him to the depths of a painful hell.

Some paint covered his nose as he continued across her skin, kissing under the collar of his old work shirt he'd given to her, and her legs quivered.

"Robert, please." Her pleading would've made him surrender on a normal day, but this was far from his ideal day. He needed to recover a bit more, first.

"Soon, my beloved, I promise. But for now, teasing will just have to do." His cheek made her pout but she was happy that his mood was changing. Maybe there was some fuel in the Rocket after all.

"Fine. I'll wait, but not for long." She purred as she turned to walk out of the room, but not before she picked up his crutches and placed them under his arms.

"I'd expect nothing less from you, Lizzie."

"Now, are we going to stand here all day or can I go back to painting?"

"You'll find I'm great company, and quite a sight to see."

She shook her head and reached the arch way, trying not to smile at his response.

"After you, m'lady." He followed her out of the room, smelling the strong fumes as he crutched down the hall.

The door was open, and they stepped through together. Robert settled on a stack of clutter in the center of the room, watching the soon to be mother of his child pick up a paintbrush and cover the spot she'd stopped at earlier when she'd dropped the paintbrush and raced down the hall after hearing the crash and then him cursing.

He longed to be able to help her paint their child's room, but he promised himself he'd be better in time to decorate the room, a silent plan of surprise working out in his head.

Whatever was to come his way tomorrow, he'd worry about then. For now, he focused on the red-headed beauty as another drop of paint dripped into her hair.


	3. Chapter 3: Just Medicine

**AN: ALL songs mentioned in this chapter are on my profile. Reviews welcome and appreciated! I love you all :)**

Robert waited for the coffee to brew, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was the first day he had to get up super early in a while, but he was eager to get back into the saddle. He'd been killing himself at PT because he was determined to get on with his life. Two months had already passed without him at County, and he needed to get back.

Lizzie stumbled into the kitchen. "Mhhm, good morning." She smiled sleepily, rubbing the hair out of her face.

"Yes it is," he smiled back. "How did you sleep?"

"Wonderfully, you?"

He nodded his head in agreement, even though he hadn't slept a wink. A certain phantom lurking in the darkness stole the peace from him, but he wouldn't tell her that. She had too much on her plate as it was—taking over his surgeries, working extra hours because they were short-handed, looking after him when her shifts were over, carrying their growing child.

The machine dinged.

"Want some? It's decaf." he replied, his voice not quite full because he was still lost in his thoughts.

She made a face. "I hate decaf."

"We all hate decaf, but we can't have our child wreaking any more havoc than necessary, now can we?" He winked at her, and she relented, placing a hand on her now slightly noticeable belly as she leaned against the counter.

He walked to the cabinet, and pulled out two cups, this time successfully retrieving both. His left arm was out of its sling for real this time, and he flexed his fingers, checking his radial and ulnar pulses. When Paul stabbed him, he'd clipped the nerves in his arm, and Robert was scared to death that he might lose any sensory function in his left arm, and never be able to operate again, but so far, everything seemed to be okay.

She gasped, wide awake now and not from the coffee. "Robert!"

"Surprise, Lizzie," he told her as he maneuvered to the pot and poured it up. "I've been doing a whole bunch of extra work at PT so I could walk unassisted for my first shift back." He placed the cup in her hand, kissed her cheek, and took a few steps towards the stairs. While he couldn't run and walk super-fast yet, he was proud of the progress he'd made.

Elizabeth watched him in awe as he hobbled up them, heading to shower.

—

The water ran, and Robert hummed as he lathered his hands with soap. The pipes squealed from the biting Chicago cold, and steam covered the mirror. Elizabeth slipped the baggy shirt over her head and slide open the curtain, stepping in behind him, moving slow as to not frighten him.

"Robert it's me," she called out to him as she placed a hand on his back.

"Five minutes, Lizzie, it took you five minutes to come find me. I was expecting thirty seconds, but I see I'm not that important to you." He teased, jumping slightly, but settling down when he heard the familiar voice.

She ran her fingers over his shoulders, kissing them as she turned him around. She found his lips with hers, and he kissed her back hungrily as he pressed her up against the wall, rubbing his soapy hands over her bare hips right around to the curve of her belly.

"Oh, God," she sighed, having missed the feeling of his fingertips on her skin. His hands were always warm, and they always made her legs shake.

"What was that, Lizzie?" he wondered as he purred in her ear, and then awkwardly got on his knees, his back and stomach twinging, but damn it, he'd wanted her for so long, and he was determined to have her.

Robert kissed from her belly button down her legs, nipping at her ankles as he stuck out his tongue and swirled it over the sensitive bone. Elizabeth grabbed the wall to keep from falling over, closing her eyes as she laid her head back, bathing in his wonderment. God, the last time they'd done this, they didn't get out bed for a week.

She thought about how they'd gotten here—about that day two years ago when Rocket Romano pranced into her father's hospital like he ran the place. She'd never really interacted with an American before—certainly not one like him, but he burned with charisma since the very first time he said hello to her.

 _Rocket Romano pushed passed the crowd, hands stuck in his blue scrub gown as he headed for the surgical floor. Nonplussed, he plastered on his best fake smile, ignoring the turning of the heads and whispers that shot past him._

 _Of course, they knew who he was—his name has been splattered in every Medical Journal on both sides of the Atlantic for his work in his field and his desire to advance traditional surgical methods with less invasive ones._

 _Robert hadn't wanted this assignment, but did he have a choice? That was a big, fat no, and he snorted, remembering how it was only a coin flip which landed him here. Well, the Brits are better at Robotics, he justified to himself as he had packed a week later and headed across the pond._

 _A brunette nurse commented to the woman next to her, but Robert didn't care. He needed to get to the surgical floor before Charles Corday murdered him in front of everyone, but where the hell was he? The hospital was a right maze, and he'd been wondering around fort he last two hours, and all he found was the Lounge and the Cafeteria twice._

 _"Excuse me," the voice replied as she ran into him, her nose stuck deep in a stack of files, her red curls bouncing behind her._

 _"No, excuse me," Robert replied in a smooth voice as he bent down to retrieve the papers that had scattered._

 _Their eyes met. A pair of eyes bluer than the purest ocean starred into his unoriginal hard eyes._

 _"You're Robert Romano, aren't you?" she recognized him from the description her father had given her—almost like a warning to protect herself from the repulsive little man who the Chief of Staff at County had stuck on him without his consent._

 _"Rocket." He stuck out his hand, still staring at her as if he were hypnotized. Well, of course you are, buddy boy. I mean, look at her. He told himself._

 _"Elizabeth Corday." She shook his hand with a firm grip, and instead of melting in his presence, she stood her ground, licking her teeth with her tongue, and sizing him up._

Fire coursed down to her toes as Robert licked the insides of her thighs, and her brain became mush. She moaned, and he smiled wickedly as he inhaled her vanilla scent.

"Robert," she accentuated every letter of his name, opening her eyes and trying to stop her racing pulse. "Must you always tease me?"

"I'm just getting started, beautiful," he stared up at her into the eyes that'd captivated him so long ago, waiting for her permission.

She nodded, and he smiled a genuine smile at the woman who held his heart, suddenly remembering she was his wife, and that made him smile even wider, his dimples dancing across his cheeks.

Kissing down her inner leg a-ways, his lips and tongue found their destination, and he lost himself in her heat as the cold water pounded his back, but he didn't notice.

He was drowning in ecstasy for her, and he growled when she moaned loudly. Robert grabbed her ass and pulled her in even closer and continued working her until she thought she would disintegrate from the fire coursing through her veins, but if she did, what a wonderful way to go.

Her eyes were half-open, and she was suddenly tired with delirium, and she grabbed his head. Her legs were shaking, and then Robert slipped a finger inside her while flicking his tongue over her sensitive button, and she shuddered in pleasure, sure she'd fall over and hurt him, but she couldn't think of anything but the feeling bubbling deep in her belly, and she knew she was close. She had no idea long they'd been in there—concentration was nearly impossible because of Robert's actions, and her skin was electrified, sizzling, popping, burning.

"Robert," she replied in a breathy gasp.

"What can I say? Hard-work is my middle name." he laughed, before slipping another finger inside of her as he increased his speed. He could tell by her shaking legs and raging heartbeat that the fall would happen any minute now.

The tumble over the edge was the most glorious feeling she'd ever experienced—the perfect beginning to the day, and she thanked her lucky stars for the man in front of her, for his recovery, and for the child safely protected in her growing belly. Why had she ever denied the chemistry between the two of them for so long? It always fizzled and cracked, and they danced between professional rivals to respected colleagues to friends, and then to lovers and husband and wife.

"Robert!" she screamed his name and held onto the wall for dear life. He smiled mischievously, proud of himself for his feat, and then without warning, stood up, pulled back the curtain and exited the shower.

Elizabeth remembered the first time they kissed—in Robert's office after a hectic shift and a power outage. She couldn't control herself and he looked particularly handsome in the candle light of his office. She'd leaped over the desk and stuck her lips to his before he could even register what had happened. He'd pulled away and accused her of playing with is feelings, but when she yelled at him to stop being so dense, she recalled how the year before he'd asked her on a date and admitted that he found her very attractive. Butterflies filled her when he'd uttered the words, and they were the same ones that fluttered in her now.

He wrapped a towel around his waist and headed into the bedroom to get dressed, leaving Elizabeth to come down form the high by herself.

That year had been rough for her. She'd dated Peter Benton for all of six months, and even lied to the man she truly loved because of fear. Peter's jealous streak was a mile wide, and he was always looking out for himself. Elizabeth admired his tenacity, but never told him how much his selfishness at times hurt her. They were better as friends, she'd told him on the eve they'd broken up, and it was a weak attempt at self-preservation. She knew just how much she'd hurt Robert—his eyes always gave him away—and yet, she didn't care. She wanted to cut the tether loose and be free of the toad, but something stopped her from completely severing the connection.

That was a skill she'd learned back in the old Boy's club, and she was tired of hiding her abilities, just to avoid being called out in front of her colleagues. Her supervisor in England, right git he was, took great pleasure in reducing her to the size of an ant. Her father's hospital or not, she wondered how much longer she'd take their shit before running for dear life.

Of course, there was also that stupid David Kotolowitz, whom she'd dated just to rub in Robert's face. If egos could be any bigger than Robert's, David's made the Chief of Staff look like a saint. He was always putting down the staff at County, turning his nose up in arrogance because he worked at Northwestern. There was no difference between the two reckoned Elizabeth, except updated buildings.

On one date, she'd very pointedly told him that the surgical staff at her beloved hospital was ten times better than his old shoe box colleagues with no sense of humor. Elizabeth had more surgical talent in her pinky-toe than all his team combined, and she'd made herself clear. Then, everything changed when the bastard brought up Rocket. In that one fleeting instant, their relationship had skidded violently to a halt, and Elizabeth wanted to throw him in front of the El for putting down the man who'd put everything on the line for her.

Robert had risked his professional career to sponsor "some broad who wanted to play doctor." All the men at her father's hospital called her this behind her back, full of spite and jealousy that she was a surgical natural. And no amount of intervention from her father helped, it just made it worse for her.

Elizabeth had a secret that she'd never told anyone: she considered quitting medicine and working in a bakery. Her skin was thicker than everyone else's but after four years of put downs, she was fed up. It wasn't worth it if that's what she had to endure, and then she'd literally ran into her savior.

When she needed him most, he was there. That was the thing that separated Robert from the rest of the people in her life—selflessness poured from him when it came to her, and she'd been too blind at first to notice until Lucy pointed it out to her the night of the power outage. He'd also told her that night that he would do anything to keep her in surgery, and she couldn't believe it. Rocket Romano was doing something without expecting anything in return.

Maybe it was the darkness that surrounded them, or maybe she was just tired of being scared, but when she'd kissed him that night, everything suddenly made sense. Her life had only just begun with the kiss, and nothing else mattered, past or present except for him.

A solid sound hit her ears, and she realized Robert had shut the door to the wardrobe. She shivered and turned off the ice-cold water, goose bumps covering her arms as she grabbed the other towel he'd laid out for her like he suspected they'd end up in the shower together. _Cheeky bastard._

He was dressed in slacks and a light blue shirt when she entered the room, her wet hair bouncing with every step.

"I guess someone's excited to be back in the saddle." She replied as she wrung out her hair. Robert stood across from her, and his eyebrows shot up at the sight of her naked body, and he couldn't focus on much else.

"Robert?"

"Huh?" he wondered as he finished putting on his Rolex.

"I asked if you were eager to get back to County." She looked at him strangely, biting her lip, forcing the question she wanted to ask from her lips.

"Oh, yeah sure." He quickly found his shoes and sat on the bed, trying to stop the nervousness coursing through him. He grunted, the spot on his abdomen still tender, along with a twinge that shot through his back.

She joined him on the bed, and he couldn't stop himself from flinching.

"Chief of Staff business today?" she observed, noticing his attire. This small talk was uncomfortable, and there was a strange tension between them, much like the one that'd appeared when they first met and he'd brought her to the States, before they could tolerate each other. Thick walls emitted from the pair and neither could see over them.

"Yeah, meetings all day. Typical cat-and mouse game." He replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. He took her in—how stunning she was even with wet hair that would take her ages to tame, and then he felt it in the pit of his stomach.

 _"You took my organs, and now I'll take yours."_ The voice chanted over and over, the knife slicing, slicing, slicing until he could only recognize the smell of his own blood. The darkness called for him and he tumbled towards it, eager to be completely lost until a small hand rescued him and pulled him back to the surface.

Elizabeth noticed the war going on inside him, and he wasn't sure if it was written on his face. She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the lips. He noted how her skin felt, the wheels turning in his head, trying to undo the fog. This hand was too warm and the wrong size, so who's hand had that been, and why did it pull him back to reality?

"It'll be as if you never left. I'm here for you, always." Her voice quivered, and she fought off her out of control hormones. This time, he squeezed her hand, and gave her a small smile—a 'thanks for trying' smile.

"I love you, Elizabeth." He whispered, afraid that Sobriki would jump out from behind the curtains and rock his world again, but the fiend never appeared.

"I love you too, Robert." She kissed him again, placing her hands on his face and pulling him closer.

"Didn't we already do this? What more do you want from me, woman?" he teased as fire ripped through him and his tongue parted her lips and explored her mouth.

"What time does your shift start?" she purred, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.

"Twelve," he ran a hand down her back, cupping her bare ass as he palmed it.

She fumbled over a few more buttons, but Robert stopped her. She glanced into his eyes and saw nothing but shame and embarrassment in them.

"Robert, it's okay. I don't care."

"I do," he gulped out as he pushed her onto the bed and trailed kisses down her neck to her collar bone, hoping to distract her. She moaned and tried to gain the upper hand, but if she sat up, she'd be dizzy.

Coldness greeted her again as he pulled away and undid his trousers, moving slowly, as if this were a dream and he wanted to savor every second. Her hair framed her face like a halo, and he sighed, wishing he was the man he was two months ago, before Sobriki, but that man died in Curtain Three, and no number of cardioversions would save him. This had to be a hallucination of hers, something to do with her pregnancy hormones, her desperate attempt to keep her beloved with her when in reality she was a widow and a soon to be single mother.

He slid out of them and left them in a pile at the foot of the bed, joining her as she smiled.

Silence slipped over them before she spoke.

"Do you trust me?" Robert strained to hear her super low voice.

"Of course, I do, Lizzie. I'd be a fool not to," he laughed unconvincingly. He trusted her with every part of him, but he didn't trust himself. Not anymore. Not since lying in two liters of his blood after rescuing someone, but who the hell had he taken a knife for?

"Close your eyes and relax. We can stop as soon as you tell me too."

He nodded and did what she asked. She undid the final button, and slowly pushed away the fabric, exposing his scarred body. He sucked in a deep breath as if he'd been punched but didn't stop her. She asked if he was alright.

"I'm alright," he pushed the words from his lips, trying to unclench his shoulders and get lost in her touch, but his brain was in overdrive. He scanned the room mentally for any sign of strangers, but her lips on his skin made it hard to concentrate.

Robert gulped, afraid of her reaction to his scarred torso, but she kissed his lips passionately for a few long seconds before moving to his heart then his wounds. She kissed each one of them gently, lingering as she made sure to fill them with love, and they no longer stung. There was no pain, no fear, no sorrow, just warmth and tenderness and love.

He now tumbled for a different reason as the feelings consumed him and she found his lips again and straddled him.

"Robert, look at me." She pleaded, and he opened his eyes right as they joined together, and a loud peace filled him to the core as he locked his arms around her hips and they rocked away the demons.

—

Meanwhile at County, the world still spun. Okay, everyone's world spun except Lucy's, who couldn't stop chewing on her nails and looking at the clock. In twenty minutes, her life would get super awkward, and she was not looking forward to the silence that was sure to pass between them. The familiar look of "thanks for saving my life, now what do we say?" sort of thing where it's messy and leads to not speaking for months. Lucy didn't want that, she wanted to be able to spar with him and get to know the man who'd touched her cheek at 2:56 in the morning on Valentine's Day.

Noise tumbled through the ER, but Lucy couldn't hear it. Her charts grew uninteresting, and she yawned, already tired and she was only two hours into her shift. She pulled out her iPOD and put in her headphones as she headed into the Lounge.

The song started, and she sighed. It would be a long day, and she leaned back in the chair in the ER Lounge, hoping for some sort of rescue—some sort of sign that things would go back to normal. But nothing would ever be normal again.

How could it be when the man everyone saw as selfish was the only one to commit such a selfless act? It hadn't been Mark Greene in that room with her that night—the "face of the ER," the vision of what it mean to be an exceptional doctor; hadn't been the ER Chief with the crutch who had stepped out of the hospital for less than fifteen minutes on a quest for decent coffee. Abby Lockhart hadn't been in there that night either, the med student a year behind her who already seemed to be a doctor and made Lucy look incompetent since the day she'd journey downstairs from OB, nor had Chen or Elizabeth or Susan. Luka hadn't come in that night until super late, but if he'd been there, she knew he could've been the one laying in the hospital on life support for two months. Not even John Carter had been in the room, although it wouldn't have mattered. He'd probably have tried to blame the whole thing on her anyways, but no, he'd been more concerned with what the brunette in the Suture room had been doing to even bother. It'd been Rocket Romano to save her, and guilt coursed through her along with anger at the man she'd covered with the blanket before her life changed forever.

All she ever wanted was for the people she worked with to take her seriously—to see her as a good doctor. John Carter saw her as everything but, and yet, a part of her heart longed for him even though he was now taken by the mysterious Abby Lockhart.

A lot can change in two months, she reckoned with herself as the door swung open, but she was lost in her music and didn't notice.

"I figured you could use this. You look like hell." The smooth voice chuckled, tapping her on the shoulder, and held out a hand, snapping Lucy out of her reverie.

She jumped, pursing her lips and looked up, fully expecting the intruder to be the one she wanted to see, but her eyes grew wide in surprise. One earbud fell out of her ear, and the song swept around the room.

 _It's Just Medicine..._

"Wow, thanks Dave," she replied sarcastically as she switched the music off and then set down the blue device on the table, trying not to sound ungrateful, but she just wanted to be left alone. He snorted and wiggled his outstretched hand, and she smirked for a second before snatching the warm cup from him and taking a big gulp.

"Always happy to help." He sat down across from her, sizing her up—the bags under her eyes, the bones of her face more prominent than they normally were. Malucci wasn't one to get concerned over one woman, but Lucy was different. She never required him to be anything other than himself, and she had helped him out more than he could count.

Silence slipped between them while Lucy took another sip of the coffee and thunked down the paper cup, and he folded his arms and studied her as if she were an exotic zoo animal on display for a limited time.

She coughed, and began to speak, her voice small and shaky. "Dave. Thanks. Seriously."

He nodded.

"Wanna know something crazy?"

"Hit me."

"You were the only one who visited me every day for the last two months."

"What?"

"Yeah, that first week I was terrified to be alone in my apartment, and every time I called, you came running. Doesn't sound like the Dave Malucci I know." She teased, full of curiosity and gratitude.

"What can I say? You're my girl," he paused, mentally slapping himself for saving that out loud. _Nice going._

Lucy played with that little secret for a while, turning the words over in her head while biting her lip. Her face scrunched up in amusement and slight horror, but she couldn't understand why these words filled her more than the last two months had. And then she gave a small smile—a half smile, but definitely a smile, and her eyes were brighter than they had been in a while.

He had been amazing—he escorted her home on nights they had the same shift, and on days they didn't, he'd call and stay on the phone with her until she was safe behind her apartment door. Some days she'd come in, crying about the horror of that night, scared for the man she'd admired, and he always made sure to offer her a tissue as he made some lame joke. There were also the nights when she didn't feel like getting out of pajamas or bed, and he'd worry about her not eating so he'd bring over pizza and an action movie—they'd worn out _Die Hard_ more times than humanly possible, but Lucy didn't want to watch any other movie as she would drown her misery in cheese and John McClane. _What a good day to die hard,_ they'd say together while clinking together a beer or sometimes a coke, and then there were the nights when she wasn't able to sleep, and he'd stay over—sleeping on the floor as she passed out of the couch, finally able to rid herself of the man who smiled evilly as her mentor's blood dripped from the knife and then dropped it at her feet and escaped down the hall.

"I, uh, I just mean that you're my friend. Besides, who else would I have do my Scut?" he laughed nervously as he stammered, hoping he hadn't just made the biggest mistake of his life.

"You should do your own Scut, but I live for it, so no harm done. I'm finally starting to get used to having you around." She toyed with him as she finished the coffee and aimed for the trashcan, but she missed and the cup bounced onto the floor next to the fridge.

"Way to go Michael Jordan." He applauded her lame attempt and leaned back in his own chair as he stared at her green eyes. They were radiant and she brushed a strand of hair from her face.

Lucy laughed and punched him on the arm, any misgivings about the rest of the day vanishing into the halls of County.

—

"Maybe we should've taken the El." Lizzie shook her head as she sat in the passenger seat of Roberts Jag. Traffic surrounded them and she tapped her thumb on the windowsill.

"Yeah, that would've gone over well. I don't hang out with that sort of crowd unless i absolutely have to." he told her as he honked his horn at the bastard in front of him who cut him off.

"Thank you! Coward." he mumbled and Elizabeth shook her head.

"I've taken the El and i'm perfectly respectable thank you very much," she stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her arms over her chest, and he pouted and gripped the wheel tighter.

"Correction Lizzie. You used to be. You're my wife now so i don't think that's gonna win you any brownie points in certain social circles."

She tired not to laugh, but couldn't contain it as she held her stomach and her eyes watered. A smile flashed on his face at the sound, and then it faded as he went back to concentrating on the congested road, mashing a button on the radio. Elizabeth stopped tapping the windowsill, and Robert thanked his lucky stars because the sound was driving him up the wall.

"What time is your appointment?" he wondered as they somehow moved through the busy Chicago streets until they reached the parking garage across from the hospital.

"One-thirty, provided no traumas come in."

"That's likely." he snorted, driving up to the fourth level and glancing at her occasionally to make sure she was still real.

"I wonder who's on today?"

"Everyone except me, so don't need me for anything unless you're lonely and miss me," he raised his eyebrows, pouting in true Romano fashion as his shoulders were near his ears, shrugging off the inappropriate comment like it was the most normal thing in the world, but it didn't bother Elizabeth. She hit him on the right shoulder, and stuck her tongue out at him. He wrinkled his nose and tried to push away the stinging.

Robert parked and shut off the car. "How are you feeling?" his voice suddenly grew serious, and he took her hand. The light-hearted moment was gone.

"I'm fine. Great actually." she beamed at him, burping and pushing back the vomit, but all she cared about was hearing their child's heartbeat later.

"Sure you are."

"I am. Now, you are going to be there, right?" the tone of her voice held a sharpness she hadn't noticed moments ago, and he stared at her in disbelief. He knew what she'd meant by that, and she regretted it as soon as it passed her lips. He hadn't been "there" for the last few weeks. Sure he existed, but that was the problem, he was just going through the motions. A joke or sarcastic comment here and there, then nothing. Absolutely nothing. Robert _always_ had an opinion on everything. That's what made him, well, him. The spark that was once Rocket Romano had fizzled out, replaced with a walking, talking zombie who inhabited his body, dressed like him, loved like him, but wasn't her husband—wasn't the man who asked her to marry him over a bottle of red wine as they watched a small sailboat flicker on that small spit of Italian coastline.

He was the boat without the oars, without the ocean, without the sails. The boat with the leak, caught in the middle of a storm, without a working navigation system. Oh, and the boat was also on fire, sinking slowly into the blackness from the abyss that waited for it—called for it, propelled it towards the depths.

She couldn't take it anymore. She had to escape the pain that filled her. Lizzie got out and slammed the door, her blue scrubs bunching up around her waist, and she took a few steps when she realized he hadn't joined her.

Robert sat in the car, gripping the wheel with white knuckles. A small bead of sweat formed at the corner of his left brow and he gulped, trying to stop the knocking of his knees, and he was sitting down. _Come on, come on. It's just County._ Yeah, that was the problem. It was the place he;d given so much of himself to. His right kidney, his spleen, a portion of his liver and three inches of his large intestine. Why couldn't it have happened at Northwestern or that dump across the way, Mercy, where paper cuts went in but never came out. _Really dude, did you just make a Hotel California reference?_

He looked in every direction for the man with the knife, but couldn't locate him. He relaxed only slightly when he noticed several exit signs, and contemplated speeding out of the was impossible and he fiddled with his collar, loosing his tie, his breathing increased, his heart threatened to pound out of his chest.

"Are you coming?" her voice snapped him out of the memory, and he nodded, removing the key from the inert ignition, noticing the silver wedding band around his finger, then he opened the door and stepped out with lead legs.

Her face furrowed with worry, and she took his hand, her heart hammering in her chest. Elizabeth couldn't form any words so she just kept her mouth shut. She looked at her wedding ring—the diamond shimmering in the afternoon sun, as Robert glanced up at her face, and put up his iron walls—doing what he'd been doing so well for so long: pretending. He pretended he was fine when he wanted to head home and bury himself under the covers, but then he didn't want to be in any enclosed space because he wouldn't be able to escape, because it was dark. Robert Romano had never been afraid of the dark. Until now.

"I'm alright." He shook off the nervousness, and took a few steps in the direction she'd been aiming for earlier, and they headed across the street.

—

Robert Romano was anything but alright. Nauseous, paranoid, edgy, terrified, but no way in hell alright. Trauma One crackled with activity, and he took a deep breath before entering the room, his shoulders slumped and his collar brimming with dried sweat. So much for a quiet day of meetings. When he could find Benton, he'd kill him. But no one could find the missing surgeon, and so yours truly had been sucked into his "favorite" cesspool.

Nurse Lily assisted him in dressing, and he lingered on the sound the gloves made when they fitted themselves around his wrists. Stepping up to the gurney, he ignored the looks of concern on his colleagues faces. Mark filled him in and Lucy rushed around trying to stabilize the patient.

Time seemed suspend as he watched from the edges of his life. Chaos descend on him. Someone pushed a scalpel into his hand. His heart pounded in his ears like thunder. A garbled voice came after him, and he closed his fist around the instrument. Machines beeped. The space between heartbeats. His hand reached out and made the incision. The smell of blood assaulted his nose, and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. People talked over each other. His face had a green tint.

An open chest. Blood covered his hands. He stared at the patient. It was him lying on that gurney, ripped open and bleeding out. His blood spilling onto the floor, running through machines.

 _"Clear! Come on Robert. Damn it, don't you die on me. You supposed to work a double tomorrow."_ the voice floated back to him. Anspaugh's voice played over and over.

His head hurt. The room was too damn hot.

"Dr Romano!" the garbled voice from earlier mixed with his heartbeat.

"What are you waiting for, a written invitation?" he snarked, suddenly back in the moment, the beeping dragging him to the surface.

"You haven't told us what to do." Lucy told him softly, and he finally looked up at her, staring into the eternally gentle eyes that haunted his dreams, oh hell, who was he kidding, they were his nightmares. _Why the hell were they so damned familiar?_

"Suction, and Metz." he barked out order after order, and swatted Green away when he tried to help him suture the patient back together.

They'd stabilized him and prepared him for transport. Lucy shared a look with Mark and Lily before each grabbing a corner of the gurney.

"Come on. Let's go. This man needs surgery." Robert led the charge to the elevators, and he smashed the button for the fourth floor.

—

"OR six is free," Shirley told the group as she held open the doors and made sure the room was prepped. "Dr. Romano, you want me to set up bypass?"

"I don't care what you do."

"What? Aren't you doing the surgery?"

"Find someone else."

"It's just a liver injury." she replied as if it were an easier procedure than most. She wondered if he had a thing for fleshy organs now or something, and then felt a pang of guilt when she remembered he'd been in a coma for two months, but then she went back to simply tolerating him. Sometimes.

 _Blow after blow. Sobriki's face. That sicked twisted smile. The tumble. The small hand. Those eyes._

"No! I can't! I can't. Please. I' m sorry." He ripped off his stained gown and gloves, shoved them into the waste bin, and limped as fast as he could—his back screaming, his arm twinging, his stomach squeezing the life out of him.

"Somebody page Dorset." Shirley watched the normally composed surgeon heading towards the roof, sighing, and shaking her head, before collecting herself and taking the patient into the OR.

Mark and Lily whispered as they headed to the elevators, but Lucy just stood watching him, paralyzed. Her stomach pitched and she wanted to vomit. So much for normal.

 _ **Robert's ship was sinking, and he couldn't right it.**_


End file.
